


Day 23: Quiet

by SaiTheWriter



Series: Turkstober2020 [21]
Category: Before Crisis: Final Fantasy VII, Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Cold Weather, Gen, Injury, Stranded, Turks (Compilation of FFVII), Turkstober (Compilation of FFVII)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:47:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27173336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaiTheWriter/pseuds/SaiTheWriter
Summary: Reno's always bitching about being the one to take the brunt of a hit, but it's always because he's grateful his partner isn't the one on the line.Until he is.
Relationships: Reno & Rude (Compilation of FFVII)
Series: Turkstober2020 [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1957075
Kudos: 30
Collections: Turkstober 2020





	Day 23: Quiet

_Crunch._

The sound of his heavy footsteps played loud in the otherwise stillness of the valley, a mild comfort given his task. Hefting up the meagre amount of branches in the half torn sack he’d fashioned into a small drag sling on the floor, Reno looked around, breath curling up in a lazy mist before him. Gathering together logs in the middle of a snowed in forest had not exactly been ideal, especially given his lack of tools. He’d been forced to searching for dead standing trees, breaking off their branches instead.

His luck had really been the one to save his skin, quite literally, earlier in the night. Coming upon a dilapidated shack in the dead of winter, that was just some god looking over him, he'd actually managed to double back in their flight from attackers and crashed close to where he'd spotted the landmark on their trip north. Either way, he’d been happy to slip in and set up camp.

Opening the creaky door of the abandoned cabin, Reno immediately soaked in the warmth of the already stoked fireplace. Thank fuck there had been a log left, it’d been the only reason he was comfortable with leaving the hut in the first place. Dragging in the makeshift bag sling with his goods, Reno shut the door as quickly as possible, dragging his eyes towards the couch and its lone occupant.

Rude lay nestled in the emergency blanket from the first aid kit he’d unearthed in the bathroom cabinet, his jacket and shirt hung beside the fire in an attempt to dry them. Their crash had not been kind to his partner, and once again as he neared, he found himself looking over and categorizing his wounds. The glasses were gone, revealing a marbled discolouration around his right eye socket, disappearing under a butterfly bandage and causing swelling along his cheek. Just below his throat, the man’s chest had been sliced raggedly by protruding metal from their impact, something he was thankful their only surviving potion had managed to mostly close. Thank the gods that potions always seemed to go for the heaviest wounds first.

Bringing his load into the fireplace, the redhead winced when it pulled at his bad arm, gritting his teeth through the pain. He’d wrapped it as best he could, and a fracture, if he guessed correctly, wasn’t too hard to work around. He’d just been damn lucky he'd been able to get a maintenance tarp to drag his partner on, and that the snow had been soft enough to allow it. Shit, they’d been lucky up and down all through it, not counting the accident. Finding an abandoned cabin, even as hole-y as it had been, it was a godsend. The tarp lay bolstered against the main area where he’d felt the air coming through, and the warmth of the fire was keeping it all at bay anyways. He just had to keep the damn thing going while they waited for his signal to bring the company running.

Sliding down into a seat on the warped coffee table, Reno reached out with his good hand, touching the warmth of his cheek before sliding down to the blanket. “Let’s see how the bleeding’s doing, partner.” Reno murmured to himself, easing it back and grimacing. The white cloth he’d wrapped so very carefully only an hour before was now more red than white, taped tight around his middle and up over his shoulder. The potion had run out before it could fully seal his midsection, butt he lack of a completely blotted out bandage gave him some hope.

He was still far too pale, though. The blood loss he’d taken while Reno had dragged him to shelter, it was too much. If someone didn’t show up to his distress call and follow the remnants of the chopper, he’d have to make a last ditch effort in running out there to the nearest GPS tracking he’d remembered of a lodge, and that meant leaving his partner alone. A serious no go until then.

Tucking the blanket back up around the deeply breathing man, Reno sat back, inching towards the pile from his perch, and tossing a small stack of thick branches onto the stove fire. There was no telling how long they would be out here, so of course he’d tried his best to get what he could see by his low flashlight nearby. 

A noise issued from the couch, and the jerk of his head towards his partner sent Reno’s world temporarily spinning. His headache jumped dramatically, and the man found himself taking a breath to steady up before shuffling over to the man starting to rouse on the couch. “Shh, stay down, yo. You’ve got some nasty hits.” Unlike his own idiot ass, Rude was far more likely to listen to those words once he recognized the voice behind them. 

Rude halted his movements as his middle protested and the words penetrated his muddled skull. Those hazy eyes sliding towards him in the dim of the firelight. “Partner?” The croak sounded less like his companion’s normal rumble and more like a scratchy burr, dry and shaky. Awake, he seemed even worse. It was hard to judge how their crash landing had addled him inside, but from what he could tell, the knock to his head had only happened during the initial hit. His injuries all came from jerking back and into the interior after the half spin into dirt and snow.

“The one and only. So stay down, shut up, and lemme take care o’ ya, okay? Serious. Here, open up.” His good hand moved towards the remains of the first aid kit, dragging out what was probably a stale water bottle. Any port in a storm though. Cracking the bottle open, the Turk shuffled closer still and held the bottle to his lips, tipping only enough to wet them until he could see him bobbing a swallow. A quarter of the bottle disappeared like that, only stopping when the man turned his head away.

“What...happened?” The other man managed to mutter, sounding a bit more like his old self. He was squinting, and a pang went through the Turk when he noticed. The glasses were nowhere to be seen when he’d pulled him away from the fire, and a loss of life was far more important to him than looking for the pair of shades. 

“We were shot at heading through the mountains.” Recollection was hard on him, but the sudden wing while they sailed through the relatively cloudless sky, it’d been a shock. Especially when he’d had to bank left to avoid a secondary. “Got winged in the tail when the first one caught us unawares, and the third almost got our tank. First was enough to do us in though. The hit slammed you into the glass. Dropped yer ass out cold.” The memory of calling to his companion while he tried to keep them level and his partner lolled in his belt...Fuck, that was not something he wanted to live through again, but he knew it’d feature in a few nights of sleep at least.

“We sagged about twenty miles before the damage to the tail brought us down, and I couldn’t bring us in soft. I tried to get us as far from the attack site as possible, but that’s as much as she gave us. Radioed in our position on our line before it went dead, but I didn’t get a confirmation.” He’d brought the radio with, dragged along with him on the way through the forest, along with a smoke flare that probably wouldn't do much good. “Found us a cabi...Rude?”

He’d passed out again, some time after he mentioned going down, and Reno’d been too absorbed with his words to notice. Thinning his lips, Reno shifted to fix the blanket again, easing it up and reaching to touch at his forehead. No fever yet, good. He still looked absolute shit, but the lack of a chill or fever was probably the best sign he could have hoped for. “Hang in there, partner.” Reno whispered to his sleeping companion, reaching out to throw another set of branches onto the fire. 

The pile he had would keep them warm for the rest of the night, but come day, if no answer was returned, he’d have to see about getting more for the next night. They had no food, and while he could always boil snow for more water, medical care was dire for Rude to keep going. Stable for now was fine, but he needed attention yesterday. Creaking up to a stand, the redhead shuffled towards the rickety table and lone chair where he’d set the radio up, easing right back down and worrying his lip at how his body was starting to protest. All of their first aid went to Rude first, he could manage on adrenaline for awhile. But even that was waning now that initial danger had passed. 

There was nothing for it but to wait for a call, and though it twisted his stomach to sit and wait, he knew it was all he could do for now. Maybe once first light came he could go out as planned, but worry slipped into his thoughts at the possibility of them coming into ranger of his radio and messaging with no response heard. His eyes flicked towards the sleeping figure of his partner, and his gut clenched. There was no way he could think of forcing the man up to listen for a call. No. He knew what he had to do.

Wait. In the quiet of the wintry mountains, only the soft breaths of his companion and the crackle of the fire for company.

  
  
  



End file.
